An Observation on Grammar

The grammar in which a sentence is constructed evokes a particular understanding, about the time and tense for example. The selective placement of a verb or a phrase gives a meaning regarding what is intended to be conveyed. A rearrangement of words, while preserving grammatical correctness, may not preserve their original meaning.

So, every meaningful sentence constructed may be said to have risen from a thought, and if understood, a communication of meaning has taken place. The brain is capable of a miriad of concepts and expressions of these ideas. Hence the correspodingly vast potentiality of grammar.

Along similar lines of thought, learning a new language not only means adjusting to the rules in speaking it correctly, but getting accustomed to ideas that belong to the people who speak the language. Aren't the humour, the style of questioning, the perception of things, events and life of the populace ingrained in the grammatical constructions of their language?

It is also appreciated that the accentuation of sounds adds a distinct flavour to a spoken utterance, and can also yield different meanings for the same sentence.

Something such as a wrong placement of a comma in written form, or the use or omission of an article, which may although result in an acceptable sentence, can alter the meaning intended to be conveyed, and thus mislead the reader or listener. Here, it is acknowledged that it is a skill to pick out the puport despite a clumsy expression in written or spoken form, for a person much accustomed to the proper use of grammar and syntax, may have the tendency to easily miss the meaning, and grasp a scenario as something else.

The above is my small observation on grammar. Have you also thoughts on the subject?

Rhyme and Reason

Professor Mudakar was drinking his cup of coffee when there was a knock on his door. The HOD of Mathematics said, "Come in."
Ravi walked in and slumped into the chair in front of his desk and buried his face in his palms.
Mudakar said, "And good morning, Sir to you, too."
"Sir, I need you help,” Ravi said with desperation. “I'm writing a letter to Sudha and it's not turning out romantic."
Mudakar looked at the ashen face of Ravi.
"Well, I could suggest some partial differential equations to insert, if you like," he said with a grin.
"Sir, I tried all day yesterday and I came up with two lines. You are so good at clearing doubts, Sir. Can you go over this?"
Ravi handed Mudakar a flimsy piece of paper with an even worse handwriting. It read:
Dear Sudha,
I'm sorry my cat bit your finger.
Ravi.
"And I thought your math needed help," murmured Mudakar.
"Huh?" said Ravi.
"Is this true?" asked the master, waving the piece of paper.
"Oh, absolutely, Sir. We were at my house. I served tea. Sudha was admiring the brand when there came my cat and sat down beside her."
"And frightened Miss Muffet away?"
"Huh?"
"Hmm."
"Then Sudha wanted to pat the cat, but it bit her finger."
"Which finger did it bite?"
"The little finger."
"On her right?"
"Huh?"
"This is Sudha, Professor Narayan's daughter?"
"Yes," said Ravi, seeing the master for the first time as part of the other territory.
"Her math scores are good," the Professor observed.
"But Sir, can you help me?" said Ravi fidgeting in his chair. He was beginning to fear that his teacher would not approve of the match. Where smartness was concerned, she was better liked by the Profs. But it was he, not she, who had won the slow-cycle race.
“Why do you need a letter, Ravi? Perhaps you are better at communicating in person.”
“I couldn’t approach her at all, Sir. I feel really bad about the cat.”
“Professor Narayan would like your cat,” said the HOD smiling with secret mischief.
“Why, Sir?” asked Ravi with surprise.
“Ravi, I’m sorry. I cannot help you with the letter. I only write professional email,” said the Professor, standing up.
“Sir, what shall I do?”
“Focus on your math. Maybe she will see your improved score and forgive your cat,” he said and added on afterthought, “Hmm, one speaks odd sentences in this profession.”
The HOD glanced at his watch and left the room with a book in his hand, but only after giving a gracious smile to his student.

More on my blogging

Reference.

I wrote a blog post called "What". But I'm not publishing that today. Instead, I started a post on something along the lines of insecurities or flaws and thought to tell it in a way. At the same time, I was chatting with a friend. So I posted what I was blogging in the chat window.

It went like this:

Hey. I'm a hippopotamus. I'm quite happy with myself, except for my ears. They look like human ears. That's quite unfortunate because otherwise, I'm perfect.

Hi, I'm a squirrel. I just can't slow down. Have you seen me walk? No, I didn't think so. Ah, I know what you're going to say but that picture was taken when I was eating. That's different. It's either run or freeze. I'm not an in-between guy.

My friend said,
"i feel it's fine.. you may add a few more animals , if you like."

I thought that was so funny. "Add a few more animals"!:) But the mood was upbeat and not for tedious blogging. So I changed it to the following:

"Hi, I'm a squirrel. Gotta run, bye!"

Now who hasn't heard that before? Anyone who has ever tried to strike up a conversation with one of their friendly neighbourhood squirrels, has been met by its need to scurry forth and meet its obligations at 'the other side'. Ladies and gentlemen, today's question is "Why do squirrels scurry?"

I posted it in the chat window. My friend said:

"pataaki material... hehe... swalpa jaasthi heLdhe ansutthe... but anyway nice one..."

Not really keen to build on it, I thought of putting my half-baked blogpost in between the chat scenario and voila! You just read it.

My Blogging on Blogger

Type type type type type backspace backspace type type type. Enter. HTML mode: erase <>'s. Compose mode. Type type. Use MS Paint. Insert picture. Choose None for layout. Decide if image size is 'small', 'medium' or 'large' with no clue as to the specs. Drag and drop picture. Type type type type, type type type type. Add labels. Think of a title.

Publish.

Realise speeling mistakes. Notice 3 ways to make a better post.

Visit updated blogs. Like.

Log out.

Ask self after 3 days if this is not one of those posts that get zero comments.

Empty handed

Chairs

Which chair would you take?

The solitary man

Silent, unassuming, this solitary man;
Asks nothing. With duty in mind, keeps going.
Does he reckon the noble nature of the path he has tread?
Does he know the future earned of the steps he has lain?
What fortune awaits him? Nature hides the truth behind Her smile-
The moment to gift him not far away!
Dreams he does not spell out, this solitary man;
What will he say when he runs into his own bright destiny?